Frankenstein: The 1818 Text

by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

it is sad trash.”

for I had long considered those authors useless

it became a thing such as even Dante could not have conceived.

I dreaded to behold this monster; but I feared still more that Henry should see him.

Do not laugh in that manner. How ill you are!

Her ugly sister,

which happily turned the conversation from a subject that was so annoying to me.

An open and capacious forehead gave indications of a good understanding,

and gave way to my own miserable reflections.

I perceived, as the shape came nearer, (sight tremendous and abhorred!) that it was the wretch whom I had created.

Begone, vile insect! or rather stay, that I may trample you to dust!

“I expected this reception,”

He easily eluded me,

my height is superior to thine;

so true, very relatable to me

relieve me from the sight of your detested form.”

and wine; the latter, however, I did not like.

My person was hideous, and my stature gigantic: what did this mean?

Increase of knowledge only discovered to me more clearly what a wretched outcast I was.

He felt as if he had been transported to Fairy-land,

Company was irksome to me;

But I am a blasted tree;

it became every day more horrible and irksome to me.

But I was doomed to live;

our marriage would render me eternally miserable,

why did I not then expire!

you should endeavour to make up your mind to disappointment.”

Come on, my enemy;

there was something so scaring and unearthly in his ugliness.

“But it is true that I am a wretch.

Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior to thine;